My Greatest Creation
by Delillium
Summary: Tony can't help but watch the reel once more. The reel where his father finally admits his love for his son. Depression sinks into the iron man as he stares into his father's eyes, and the team must get together once more. However, this time, they're saving Tony. From himself.


**My Greatest Creation**

* * *

Tony Stark's fingers were trembling. It was an odd thing, the feeling of fear. It wasn't an emotion he came into battle with often. It wasn't an emotion he liked either.

It was something he rather suppressed than deal with, which was obviously a trait passed from his father to him. His father never wavered from his usual bored expression.

When he put the metallic skin on, fear wasn't even an option. Fear was far from him. Fear was something his mind wasn't accessible to. Fear was more of an idea than a reality.

But now, naked from his security blanket and sitting in the backseat of his car, he clenched his fists together as he watched the younger him, pulling at the buildings from his father's model.

Just to earn some attention.

His attention.

He blinked.

He couldn't even sit in the front seat. Even when he was dead and just pixelation on a screen, he couldn't see him eye to eye. See _it _eye to eye.

It was aggravating in a way, but humbling in another. And God knew he needed to be humbled every once in a while.

His fathers back hit the table.

He swallowed.

"..T-"

The key was punched, and the door opened, however, within his current state of absolute fear he didn't even notice the click or the multiple footsteps entailing it.

"-ony. You're too young to understand this right now...so I...thought I'd put it on film for you."

"...I built this for you. And someday.." The man paused momentarily, but the eye contact that the father and son shared made it stretch on to what seemed like minutes, and then hours. "...you'll realize this represents a whole lot more than just peoples inventions.."

Another paused, and Tony had to do all he could not to cringe when he was almost forced to stare within those eyes.

The eyes that had haunted him for so long, but now, were gone forever. Gone except for on this one reel where he could almost pretend that he was there again. Proud of him as he stood within the middle of his lab and showering him in compliments.

"...It represents...my life's work. This is the _key _to the future. I'm limited..by the technology of my time. But one day..you'll figure this out, and when you do.."

Extended eye contact once more, the projection illuminating his skin and reflecting off his eyes within the darkness of the room.

"You'll change the _world_."

The word was said with such tenderness, he almost didn't recognize the man behind the words. But it was coming. The part he always felt the fear escape him, and then overwhelming depression envelope him like the darkness that surrounded him now.

"What is and _always _will be my _greatest_ creation is you."

The face smiled, and all at once, he could see the headlines. Reading his fathers tragic and untimely death. His mother's body lying out on the curb, his father's eye wide open in pain. His mouth ajar with unspoken words resting on the tip of his tongue.

And he, sitting there, looking at the paper with awe, and shock. Realizing he was free of his cold, calculating eyes.

But now he just wished he could have him back.

Now he knew why his father never said he loved him. Now he understood why he regarded him, but never hugged him. Why his lips never touched his cheek like the other fathers did to their children.

Why, it all made _sense. _

Because he never had second doubts that his invention could fail. No matter how he treated him or brought him up. He would never fail. But as a child, he was simply the proto-type, and as all proto-types are, they are undeveloped, not mature, still breaking in their parts. They are all but useful, and before they may be used properly, they must go through their trials.

And for so long, he never understood that.

And now he was gone.

He would never be able to wrap his arms around his father's middle and feel the warmth against his skin. The closest thing to that, would be too grasp the cold stone of his icy grave. To perhaps encase the thin projector screen within his arms. The way his father never did to him.

He so desperately wished he could do it now.

He stood within the convertible, pushing the door open, watching his face rest on the screen, his mouth twitch into a smile and stare within his eyes.

It was father and son.

It was the moment he wished he could have had so desperately with him when he was alive.

"What the fuck does any of that even mean?" Tony whispered with a soft laugh. "How is it, that you saved me from your grave? You're insane. I hope you know that. I hope you're rolling in your grave." He smiled at the thought of his father groaning at him and calling his name is exasperation like he used to.

When he used to roll his eyes every time he saw him.

How it hurt him, but now, it made him smile. Now he understood it all.

Now he did.

He turned to stare at the model of the city, he gave a large grin.

He watched the screen roll to yellow then to white and black.

And once again, he did not hear the door click and multiple footsteps echo across the lab grounds and he did not hear the footsteps going up the stairs.

What he did hear, however, within moments, was the pop of a his bottle of scotch, and the smooth waterfall crashing into the cool glass. And what he did hear, were the choked sobs beneath his large gulps.

And what he did hear..was fear.

Because he knew, once he had cracked open that bottle, he _knew _once he started gulping down that liquid courage, that there would be no self-control.


End file.
